This story isn't actually about me, it's about my mom. One morning in March, in the year 2000, my younger brother called me in a panic. "I just asked Mum how to get somewhere, and couldn't understand what she was saying. Her words are all slurred together." Mum realized I was serious when I called the minister from her church, who was also her boss - my mom's a church organist and a piano teacher. At that point, she agreed to go with me to the emergency room. Good thing, as my next call was going to be an ambulance. "1985," replied my wily mother. Ready for this? "1978!" she said proudly.